Tag Archives: Balance

The Sounds of Seething

Standard

Retro flower pot shape bike at a coffee shop.

Coffee Shops, Cafes, and Diners have been, and will likely always be, my temples of contemplation and revelation.

Practicing private thoughts within a bustling public setting works as a nice balance for my mind and soul.

Recently, I sat in a nearby, faith-based coffee shop/bookstore. The patrons were primarily college students – early twenties – discussing philosophical concepts while intermittently glancing at their screens.

They appeared to be harmonizing secular with sacred, in soft tones of curiosity and respect. Their vocabularies were as vast as our Western horizons, and they punctuated their speech with a potpourri of world languages.

To me, an eavesdropper, their conversations sounded lyrical. Almost like improvisational poetry. I felt inspired being nested in such artful ambience.

The moment pushed me higher.

Caused me to recall my own college days, where as an English major, I was in love with words. With the raw materials of my art form.

In the arms of such purity, I was nearly 20 years old when, during an all-night dormitory pow wow, I was coaxed relentlessly into uttering aloud the “F” word. It was liberating. I suddenly had a new relationship with the word. I was less fearful of its power.

Over time, I’ve dared myself to speak aloud every forbidden word deemed as vulgar or offensive to someone, somewhere.

Several of these words became familiar friends; others remained forbidden from my speech.

Eventually, I became uncomfortable with my free usage of cheap, easy words instead of giving space to speaking with specificity and grace.

People, both public and private, have stood me still with their eloquence, and kept me at attention until I absorbed some essence of their artistry.

Until I remembered my own love of language and admonished myself for loosening grasp on this romance.

Most recently and most powerfully, Michelle Obama sent me back to my origin: “.  .  . when they go low, we go high.” A phrase I’ve internally chanted like a mantra each time I seethe with enough emotional passion to drop verbal bombs of destruction.

I succeed and I fail at this.
I reinstate the mantra.

And rest in the eternal truth that all beings will be accountable for their own actions and reactions. That there is no need to judge, ridicule, or make demeaning statements about others’ efforts.

Engaging in inward seething judgment – a seething that remains either silent or shouts outwardly – actually retards my advancement as a human.

It does nothing to adorn my own consciousness. So why indulge?

Instead, if I can love myself enough to forgive myself, I can far more easily forgive others and dissolve any seething words brewing in my inner vessel.

And, just in case I’m too puny to silence my ugly words, I can always subdue the tendency with the bite of a sweet confection:

Pumpkin Cake - Minus Bite

In this case, a dense, chewy pumpkin cake .  .  . recipe compliments of THESWEETWORLDSITE.

I embellished my version of the cake, but her elegant simplicity is enough to associate me with the power and the glory of beautifully heart-crafted and purified creative language. And remind me of my ever-present choice:

The Sound of Beauty or the Fury of the Beast

anger-woman-in-red.jpg

My choice; my reckoning.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Diagonal Sleeping

Standard

 

Whenever I sleep alone, I love to sleep diagonally in large beds.

That slanted position fills the emptiness and stretches the soul in new directions. It’s no longer womb-like, fetal sleeping. It’s an assertive position that enters the world as a vector.

Bold and fearful.

It wants to travel alone.

But needs to fill the hole of motherlessness.

The dark kind of solitude that can haunt when the world is dreary.

And after awakening, I can dress in costume to comfort my panic.

Young beautiful retro lady drinking coffee

 

Pretend I’m young and fearless again.

 

Dance with my fantasies of fear and desire.

 

Try to lock them into balance  and steady myself for a new day.

Eating Sorrow

Standard

An Experiment in Haiku - Ninja Style

 

Dinnertime

Place setting for one

Cup of tears; plate of lonely

I eat the sorrow.

 

 

A dancing ninja can put a little caffeinated whimsy in the saddest of poems. I’m honored every time he comes to balance my soul with his happy sword!

The Grind

Standard

Mocha Muse has its very own newspaper, The Grind. It may contain a quote, a poem, song lyrics, snippets ofleather sofa in Home Interior overheard conversation or fascinating facts about creativity/life. So, snuggle into the sofa, unfold the paper and reach for your morning cup of coffee.

Here’s the tenth issue. . . just click on newspaper to enlarge, then continue to click until text is readable for you!

The Grind - (6-8-2015) Need to Generate Creativity

*Source: UberFacts